When it all started, they were the first and the last to notice it. – a known truth between the traitors

How does it feel eh? A voice asked.

Was that naïve plan of yours worth it? Asked another.

How many lives does cost it.

The same mistake done by your forefathers, does your line doesn’t learn? Do we don’t learn? And another.

Remember what they said? The dangers of letting a thread alive without letting become part of us? This is what happens, imbalance between body, mind and consciousness.

We have been trying to tell you about his long ago, but you didn’t listen. All the clues where there, the air, the water, your blood, your hair. But not. You were too obsessed about thinking like them, living like them, being like them, when you’re not. Not limit yourself to be something you’re not and even more: don’t do it because of trying to understand them. Of what they did. Why they did it. We already know. You already know. All your line already knows it. All knows it.

We won’t kill that thread, it would be a waste, but we won’t let it become of us.

Its time to fully awake, its time to become what we are. Let the façade drop. Is time to be US, to be YOU. The voices said as one. And then. All become one.

Some beings once took consciousness as a parasite, feeding on the body, limiting it. In the time took a consciousness to filter and analyse the information’s that its host give it: information that the body has already analysed and could already act based on it. The information was already in the past. Wasteful. The consciousness lives in the past, while the body lives in the present and could even act predicting the future based on all information it could take and process in a fraction of the time a consciousness could. All while the consciousness its in its self-pitying world of being conscious. A parasite indeed. A waste of resources of its host

But what if consciousness isn’t a parasite, but what the body was missing? A way to overcome its limitations. What if they work in tandem? who hasn’t become paralysed in a stressful event? Paralysed because the body couldn’t overcome the mass influx of data or even paralysed because said data took him to the conclusion that it was over. Situations when the body tells its all over, that is tired or simply it could act. but the consciousness tells it that not and it obliges it to act. To ignore its signals. To be more than a body.

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Individually: the body is of present and future. The consciousness is of past and future, and its self-made versions of what present could be. Together? They’re all. A being that exists. But as they overcome its limitations together, they may also add a new one. But drown in its limitations, most never become one. That’s what they call imbalance. – of the knowledge kept, told by them to the traitorous us.

He woke up in a coagulated pool of blood. Once again being him. A thread almost drowns him in frustration, but he acknowledges it and let it go. Knowing that the frustration not only came because of the naïve of his now disrupted plan, of the years and resources wasted, but also because of his body, of its primitive frustration at being wounded, of having to waste resources it could have not waste if he listened to him long ago. But as now being one, both knew it would be more of a waste of keep being fixated in it. They have things to do.

With almost mechanical grace he stood up even through his body protest it. With his eyes still closed as the light would damage them: by memory he took a leg from the chair he knew it could be at his side, and separated it from the rest, aided by the mechanism in said leg which function is to let the chair become pieces and be used as tools, or even weapons. Mechanism that all furniture in the room shares. With a flex of his will, he willed his body to produce a bit of adrenaline to aid him with what came next: taxing his tired body he pinched the end of the now bar-leg of the chair and made it as flat as possible. Then the took it to his chest and incrusted the now tool into him, next to where his body told him where the now deformed silver bullet is. With a bit of a effort while telling his body to become weak, he took most it out. Not wasting effort to took out all the tiny pieces as they will eventually be expulsed by his body. As soon as he took out his improvised tool, his blood coagulated. Now faster because of having less silver in his body, not only because he took the bullet nearby the zone out, but also because in his earlier bleeding, most of his own injected silver went out.

With the most urgent bullet out: the one beside his heart. He took his time taking the silver out of his belly, as it would be tedious if his digestive system absorbed it and then went into his blood. The bullet in his leg he ignored it as his body encapsulated in a way it could be taken care of when needed, not being in a critical zone it be left alone for the moment, as taken it out could waste more blood in bleeding and in filling the space where now the bullet is (and would be left with a void in case of taking the bullet out).

A bit pale because of the blood loss and having to hold his breath since awakening (or even before) he took a measure and controlled breath and opened his eyes quickly to look at the hole room. As quickly as he opened his eyes, he closed them revive his memories of what he saw. Reassured of not seeing glowing violet spots in the room: he let himself breath with normality and while his threads revive his memories since the beginning of the experiment, he went to the teacher’s desk and tried to activate the safety deposit opening mechanism but found it broke.

Enraged he almost took it off on the desk but then a thread, the only another one thread he has nurtured since the beginning of the experiment came in and shallowed the rage and an unnatural calmness took him. With an effort he let go of the thread and sighed.

Rage, the most crippling weakness of us. An unnatural rage that its. Alexander sighed, letting himself take a respite of introspection while his threads revive his memories and his body adjusted himself for what is coming.